Together with a Splash
by JamesLuver
Summary: Anna and John are very much enjoying their first few days in the cottage, with readying their home falling a little by the wayside for more pressing activities. But when John takes a bath and Anna decides to join him, things don't quite go as planned.


**A/N:** This was inspired by a post on ImagineYourOTP on Tumblr. Just pure fluff and cottage shenanigans.

I was dithering on the rating, but it's not like I describe much, so I _think_ it's vague enough to get away with it.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Downton Abbey_.

* * *

><p><span><em>Together with a Splash<em>

Anna was quite sure, with the bliss of the last couple of days, that she never wanted to return to work. Lord Grantham and Lady Mary had been kind enough to grant them a few days to get on their feet with the decorating of the cottage, but if she was completely honest, the cottage wasn't that much further along than it had been at the beginning. They had tried, re-decorating their sitting room, arranging a few bits and pieces here and there…but the seductive pull of the bedroom had been too much to resist most of the time.

That was where they were now, lying tangled together, their hearts beginning to slow after their exertions. Anna rolled onto her side with a quiet hum, resting her chin against her husband's broad chest.

"That was rather wonderful," she said dreamily.

John chuckled, looking entirely too pleased with himself. He was getting a bit too confident about his abilities. Too much more and he would be insufferable. Not that she could blame him there – John Bates knew what he was doing. The pleasure he could tease from her quelled any crossness she might have felt at his arrogance. And having him here with her was the biggest prize of all. She had never doubted him, not for one second, but there had been moments with the dark of night pressing in on her when she had sometimes wondered if she would ever get to lead a normal, happy life with him. To hold him in her arms whenever she wanted, to share simple domesticity, to kiss him, to sleep with his heavy, reassuring weight by her side…

To make love with him once more, feel the texture of his skin against hers, the rasp of his stubble and the boyish strands of hair, those thick, coarse hairs on his chest, his long and lean limbs.

But here they were.

Words were not necessary as Anna snuggled up against him, burying her head into the crook of his neck and breathing in the salty scent of his skin. Sweat, musky sleep, sex. It suited him. His arm came up around her, pressing into the small of her back and holding her close.

"This is nice," she crooned.

"It is," he agreed. "If only we could spend all of our time this way."

She hid her smirk against his skin, pressing a kiss to him. She would certainly have no objections to that. The two of them and this bed. She was quite certain they would never be bored.

The sheets were twisted around their knees, and Anna cast a lazy eye over his body. The bright light of the morning sun beamed in from the curtains that they had forgotten to draw the night before, throwing every part of him into focus. Her hand trailed further down, grazing his thigh. He flinched, then laughed coarsely, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips.

"Naughty girl," he murmured. "Give me a little time."

She rose up on her elbows, leaning across to kiss him. "You've a lot of time to make up for, Mr. Bates."

He caught her around the waist, pulled her flush to him. She squealed, demanding he let her go, but it was all for show; the feel of him naked everywhere against her was electric. He silenced her with his mouth for several long moments, and she fell into the sensation of his warm lips moving softly over hers. When he eased back from her, he was smirking, that delicious, knowing smirk that set her on fire. She rubbed herself none too subtly against his thigh, letting him know exactly what she wanted.

"My, you are greedy," he said, his fingertips running in smooth lines from the small of her back to the backs of her knees. "Always wanting."

She blushed at his words, but couldn't help giggling. "I should take it as a compliment, Mr. Bates. You've proven yourself to be rather…adept. I can't get enough of you."

"Adept?" he said, tilting his head back as his teasing fingers caressed the inside of her thigh from behind just slightly. "I suppose that _is_ a compliment."

"And I won't be denied my husband any longer," she continued. "I want to make up for every moment of pleasure we've been denied over the last eighteen months."

"Something else I can't find fault with. You are so very beautiful when you're finding pleasure."

She purred in the back of her throat when he began to ring kisses around her collar bone, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. It was sending tingles directly to her lower half. Losing herself in the sensations that he stirred within her, she emitted a delighted squeal when he hooked his arm around her back, rolling them over until she was pressed beneath his body.

"Why, Mr. Bates," she purred. "What a rogue you can be."

"Haven't you heard? That's what prison can do to a man. Anyway, be quiet woman."

She said, "How are you going to stop me?" She hoped he would take her up on her silent challenge.

He didn't disappoint, his mouth covering hers instantly. How she loved this side of him. Masculine, commanding. In these moments, she could well imagine the young man he had been. A right proper lothario, she wagered. Dark haired, wild-eyed, oozing confidence. The ladies must have been falling over themselves. Sometimes it was disquieting, knowing that he had so much more experience than she could ever hope to compete with, but he rarely brought it up himself. It suited her just fine. And, in moments like this when he used what knowledge he had to make her feel the way he did…it was, quite frankly, the last thing on her mind. She brought her thigh up alongside his hip, trying to coax him further towards where she wanted him. She felt his lips curve over hers as he _lightened_ the kiss, and then he pulled away from her entirely.

"John?" she whined, pushing herself up on her elbows, decidedly flustered as he shuffled back on his knees. "What are you doing?"

"It's our last day here before we have to start work again tomorrow," he told her. "There are still things we need to get done. Sorting out the kitchen, for one thing."

She blinked at him, nonplussed. "You can't be serious."

"Well, it's not going to do itself."

He was at the end of the bed now. She took a moment to admire the strong curve of his back as he rubbed a hand through his already dishevelled hair.

"There are plenty of hours in the day," she said. "We'll start after lunch."

Lips quirking, he said, "Like we did yesterday?"

She flushed. That had been the initial plan the previous afternoon…but he had looked so delectable that she hadn't been able to resist dragging him back to bed with her. Like she kept reminding him, they had to take every opportunity they could. They were going to be regrettably less with the return of their hectic work schedules.

"Today will be different, I promise," she said. "Just come back to bed for a little while."

"I know you now, Anna Bates," he replied, standing up. She was momentarily very distracted by his very wonderful behind as he padded casually round the room as naked as a babe. God, she wished she could have him like that all the time while they were home alone. "If you had your way we wouldn't be leaving the bed at all."

"And that's a bad thing?" she pouted, trying to sprawl herself across the mattress in the most seductive way possible.

Casting an appreciative glance over her that made her toes curl, he said, "It isn't a bad thing at all. But it's already eleven and we haven't got anything done yet. I do think we need to start somewhere, otherwise we'll never catch up."

Anna sighed dramatically, reluctantly quitting their bed too. "All right, you win. Spoilsport."

He gave a bark of laughter, pulling on his undershirt. "What if I promise to make it up to you later on?"

"There's no 'what if' about it, Mr. Bates," she replied tartly, wriggling into her shift.

The kiss he pressed to her mouth was all the vow she needed.

* * *

><p>With a final flourish, Anna pulled the brush down the wall for the final time.<p>

"There," she declared. "Perfect."

They had been working on the kitchen for most of the afternoon. The furniture was still pulled away from the walls to allow them to dry, but for all intents and purposes, their work for the day was finished. Anna had to admit, it had been nice to get stuck in, to make the house their own little home. It might not have been much, but to her it was all she would ever need.

They must have looked quite the pair. John had taken the time to slip into his trousers as well as his undershirt, but Anna had stopped in her shift. It gave her more room to move about without the constraints of her corset, and she had to admit that it gave her a certain thrill every time she caught her husband staring out of the corner of his eye.

There was certainly nothing stopping from exploring that again now. Anna had made them a few sandwiches, which they had wolfed down in turn whilst the other continued painting, so they had a few more hours until they needed to eat again. Anna was already busy planning exactly how they would spend that time.

But, once again, John seemed to have different plans.

"I think I need to take a bath," he sighed, brushing those defiant strands of hair out of his eyes. "I can't stand this paint on my skin any longer."

"I don't know how you manage to make such a mess," she teased. "You get more paint on yourself than you do on the walls."

He pouted, peeling his saturated undershirt over his head. The sight of that hairy chest set her heart fluttering once more. She just had to get her hands on him again. Inexperienced she might be, but she was not unenthusiastic. Not in the slightest. But, licking her lips, she conceded defeat. It would be a more pleasant experience if he wasn't sticky with paint residue.

"All right," she said, "go and get your bath. I'll tidy away the last few things in here. Then perhaps we can do something else."

"Like what?" he asked, with just the right lilt in his voice to make her blush. He closed the last few paces between them, his hands moving to cup her hips. His thumbs traced maddening circles against her sides. She fought down her shiver.

"The sooner you hurry, the sooner you'll find out," she returned tartly. He growled in the back of his throat, leaving her with a searing kiss against her mouth. She stayed where she was for several moments, her heart racing in her chest, her knees a little weak. God, how she loved married life.

The sounds of John moving overhead were a comfort as she washed their pots in the sink and ordered their kitchen as far as she could. Once that was done, she was at a loose end. Deciding that she might as well head upstairs, she paused when she heard the faint splashes emanating from the closed door of the bathroom. Her husband was washing.

A wicked thought crossed her mind.

Did she dare join him?

The question was answered a moment later when she closed her eyes and imagined the scene. John, naked and wet, droplets of water clinging to that delicious chest hair, his hair slicked back. Tugging her shift over her head, she cast it to the floor. No use for that. She was accustomed to John's appreciative gaze upon her naked form now, and she was not ashamed to bare herself to him. If anything, her appearance would only spur things along.

Fighting a smile, she pushed open the door.

"Room for a little one?" she asked.

The sound of her voice made John turn, and she was pleased to see that her fantasy was very close to the reality. His mouth dropped open at the sight of her, and she giggled as he cast about for something to say.

"My God, Anna," he settled for hoarsely.

"I thought I'd come and see how you were getting along." Her voice echoed in the room, and she leaned against the doorframe, trying to look as sultry as possible. John's heated gaze lingering on certain parts of her body roused another storm of butterflies inside her.

"I feel all the better for having you here," he growled.

She padded forward, peering into the water, fighting a triumphant smirk when she saw the result of her appearance. "I can see that. Can I join you?"

"By all means," he said. "I'm sure you can squeeze in with me."

Grinning, she braced her arms either side of the tub, dipping her head to kiss his cool mouth. The molten feeling in the pit of her stomach intensified. It looked like another new experience was upon her. John's surprisingly cold hands snaked out to grasp her waist, pulling her into the water with him –

And then she squealed aloud, the temperature of the water taking her breath away. Thrashing frantically, water sloshing over the sides of the tub, she scrabbled her way back out, almost slipping on the tiled floor. John blinked in surprise, sitting up fully.

"Anna?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean, what's wrong?" she panted. "The water, it's bleedin' freezing! God, are you trying to give me a heart attack!?"

Understanding dawned on his face. "Of course."

"Of course!? How can that have slipped your mind? Bloody hell!"

Anna cast around for something to throw over her violently shaking body. His gaudy flannel gown was hanging on the back of the door. She snatched it up at once, buried herself inside it. Vigorously rubbing at her arms to create enough friction to warm her, she glowered at her husband.

John chuckled, more amused at her actions or her rare expletive, she couldn't say. "I never thought."

"Never thought to warn me that I'd be turned into ice? John Bates, I swear I'll swing for you…"

He splashed water down his back to remove the last of the suds before standing. He reached for the towel he had left on the edge of the tub, carefully navigating around the spilled water.

"I'm sorry," he offered. "I've not had a warm bath for years, it never occurred to me that you would. Silly, I know."

"_Why _don't you have a warm bath?" she moaned. She moved on to rubbing her sides, satisfied that her arms were dry.

"Well, there was no opportunity for a warm bath in Africa. You made do with the water you found. And you're not allowed such luxuries in prison, either. I suppose my body just adapted."

At the mention of that, Anna paused. It hadn't occurred to her that such a habit might have arisen from the awful experiences of the past. Suddenly, she felt ashamed for her snapping.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"What is there to be sorry for? You didn't know."

"Even so…"

"Anna, relax. It's fine. Now come on, let's get you out of the bathroom. It's not very warm in here."

He bundled her out of the door, down to their bedroom. She shivered in his wrap. Out of what, she wasn't sure. His hands had taken over the task of rubbing her down.

"Let's warm you up," he whispered huskily.

She squealed when his cold hands sneaked beneath the gown.

"John, stop it!" she giggled, trying to push him away from her. "You're all cold!"

He laughed with her, but he did not stop his ministrations. "I won't be for long."

She allowed him to push the gown from her shoulders, but squealed again when he pressed his body tight to hers. The insistent heat against his thigh was a stark contrast against his wet body, and he lowered them both to the mattress.

"John, you'll wet the sheets," she gasped.

"They'll dry."

"You're wetting _me_."

He lifted his head and raised his eyebrows, smirking. She flushed scarlet, smacking her palm against his shoulder. He moved to kiss her after a moment, wreathing his lips over the contours of her face.

"Trust me," he muttered between those kisses, "this is the best way of getting you warm quickly."

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right.

* * *

><p>Afterwards, Anna lay with her head across her husband's chest, fighting for her breath. The cold had long since been chased from her limbs. The only dampness left on her husband was the sweat from his exertions. They were quiet for a few minutes, until John pressed his lips against her temple, nuzzling his nose against her.<p>

"It's a pity that our excursion in the bath didn't quite go as you'd planned it," he murmured.

"Whose fault is that?" she shot back. "But I can't complain. You more than made up for it."

He was clearly pleased by her compliment, and she leaned up to kiss away his smirk.

"Perhaps we can get it to work one way," he ventured.

"Not if you have ice cold baths, we won't," she retorted.

"Well…" His lips ghosted her temple one last time as he snugged her against him for a post-coital doze. "Perhaps every once in a while I could stomach a long, hot bath."


End file.
